(A/N: This fic contains violence, language, innuendo, gore, etc. If any part of the following offends you DO NOT READ IT. As usual, almost all flames will be ignored, unless they contain reasoned statements.)

(As usual, I do not own any part of the Spyro series.)

Chapter 1

A glade in Avalar

A dragon, with scales that could only be described as the color of blood, was in a glade. His usually white claws and horns were covered in a layer of gore. In fact, his entire body was covered in blood.

Crymson looked down at the corpse of the ape he had just killed. The last ape that had ever lived, and the last one he would ever be able to kill. Crymson sighed.

Mother, Father…

It had taken years, but he had finally done it. He had killed every ape that ever had a tie to Malefor.

Now for Malefor himself.

Suddenly the earth shook violently, but stopped within seconds. Most creatures would feel fear, but Crymson felt only rage. He knew what it meant. He knew exactly what it meant. Someone had killed Malefore BEFORE HIM. Crymson screamed in rage, feral rage, jealous rage, pure rage.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

As flames began to erupt from every part of his body, Crymson incinerated everything around him.

A cave in Avalar.

Scorch felt the earth shake violently, then stop. He had read the ancient dragon scrolls; he knew what had just happened. Someone had defeated Malefor. He looked down at the pink dragoness under his wing. His daughter, Ember. For years he had taught her to be cautious, to never trust another, to be safe, to defend herself if needed. And now he would have to ask her to forget all that. Forget living her entire life in solitude. Scorch sighed. Life was never easy, and he was getting older and older. He popped another sheep in his mouth.

The carcass got stuck in his throat.

Scorch gagged, struggling to breathe. He reached into his mouth with his right paw, but he couldn't reach far enough.

Oh, the irony. For my entire life I have killed and eaten sheep. But now a sheep kills me. I would laugh if I had the breath to do so.

As his vision began to fade away at the corners, Scorch had only one regret. He regretted not being able to see Ember grow up, find a mate, and do all those things growing dragonesses do. How should he know what else, he wasn't a dragoness.

Oh dear, Ember will have quite the awakening. I'm sure her reaction would be amusing if it weren't so tragic.

Skies of Avalar

Spyro and Cynder flew through the skies. All their troubles seemed to have disappeared. Malefor was dead, the world wasn't going to be burned to ash, and they were both still alive. In fact, Cynder was so happy she was almost looking forward to Sparx's inane comments. Almost being the key word of course. But over the last few days (or would it be called years, since they had been sealed into the crystal together?), Cynder had felt herself growing closer to Spyro and Sparx.

But Spyro's thoughts were turbulent for one who had just saved the world. He couldn't help turning over the last few words Cynder had said after Malefor had died.

…I love you…

Did she really mean it? Right now she was acting like it had never happened.

Suddenly, Spyro saw a familiar green blot on the ground. There was only one green blot with wings of that size that Spyro knew. Pulling his wings in, Spyro went into a spiraling dive, rushing towards the ground at terminal velocity. Before he hit the ground, Spyro let his wings relax, catching the air and leveling his trajectory out. He tackled Terrador at such a speed that the larger dragon was knocked to the ground. Laughing, they tussled for a few seconds, but a scream quickly cut through the air.

Terrador's paused for a second. From the tone and pitch it seemed to be a young dragoness's scream, yet it was not Cynder. Instead, the scream seemed like it had come from far away, at the edge of hearing range.

No words were needed. The three dragons flew immediately in the direction of the scream.

Outside of Scorch's cave…

Ember screamed again, backing away from her father's corpse. Her father's corpse. Her father's corpse.

He was dead.

It can't be.

She continued backing up, leaving the cave as she did so. Everything seemed so distant, like a dream, but she knew it wasn't.

Ember backed up right into a red dragon. She started and whipped around, quick-stepping away from the stranger as she did so. He seemed remarkably calm for seeing another dragon. Father had always taught her that she was the only dragon of her age. All the other eggs had been destroyed by apes under Gaul, a primal warlord serving under Malefor himself. Actually, from time to time she had heard the felines talk of a legendary purple dragon, who could save the world. She had always been careful to not be seen or heard, as her father had taught her. But this dragon was red, a darker shade of red than Scorch.

"Whoa now, I don't look that scary, do I?"

And honestly, Crymson thought he looked pretty good. He had just washed off all the gore in a waterfall, making sure his scales and horns were their natural color. Not that he could tell the difference on his scales. Now that all those he had wanted to kill were dead, Crymson wanted nothing better than to live the rest of his life in peace.

The dragoness across from him looked rather surprised to see him though. He supposed she had been taught that she was the only young dragon left. It only made sense that if Crymson had survived, so had others.

Then again, you couldn't exactly call my circumstances normal…

The dragoness narrowed her eyes.

"Back off, now." She said.

Crymson raised one eyeridge, a barely noticeable action given the fact that dragons had no eyebrow. He doubted that she could harm him, but there was no need to scare her too much. Not when she was the first other dragon he had seen. With his own eyes, at least.

He moved his left leg back, then his right leg back, making sure not to make any sudden movements. Before he could make any sudden movements, the sky fell in. Almost literally.

Three more dragons entered the clearing. The largest was a green dragon, obviously an Earth-type. His horns were curved upon themselves, a trait common among the Terra- family of dragons. The next was a smaller dragoness, with black scales. The chest scales were colored a dark magenta, in sharp contrast with her cyan eyes. The last was only slightly larger than the second, almost equal to Crymson. Crymson could feel the power emanating from this purplish-gold dragon. This must be the one who killed Malefor.

Lucky bastard… I'd like to have a throw-down with him one of these days. Just to see who is the stronger one…

Crymson shifted into a slightly wider defensive stance. He didn't want to hurt anyone, but he would not die, not when his life was just beginning.

The purple dragon opened his mouth, and Crymson prepared to counter his breath attack, but only words came out.

"Terrador, look! Dragons! I bet they're around our age, huh, Cynder?"

Like a ball, the purple dragon bounced right in front of Crymson, getting right in his face. Crymson backed up a bit, as did the pink dragoness. They were quickly side to side, facing this new dragon.

"What's your guys's name? My name's Spyro. That's Cynder over there and the big guy is Terrador. So what is it, huh?"

How can anyone talk so much? He must be a master of the wind element, to never run out of it like that.

Crymson decided there was no harm in giving his name.

"My name is … Crymson"

"Ember" Said the pink dragoness.

Crymson relaxed just the tiniest bit. It didn't seem like this bunch meant him any harm.

Spyro was ecstatic. Other dragons! His own age, too! He turned to Terrador.

"Terrador, isn't that great? Terrador?"

But Terrador was frozen in place, an odd look on his face.

Spyro had seen Terrador in many states. He had seen Terrador happy, sad, angry, frustrated, and depressed. But now Spyro recognized the look on his instructor's face, and he had never seen it before.

It was a look of fear.